Stone Rules (A Mitchell Sisters/Stone Brothers Novel)

by Samantha Christy

  “Maybe because it’s not just me anymore.”

  I put my hands on her stomach. “I love that it’s not just you. I want this, Charlie. I want us. I want our family.”

  She looks down to see my hands caress her belly. “Are you sure, Ethan? I mean are you really sure? I need to know that no matter what happens, you won’t leave. Because . . .” —her voice hitches and a tear escapes her eye— “Because everything you said is true. And I don’t think I could take it—having you and then losing you.”

  “I’m sure,” I promise her. “You could never lose me. No matter what.”

  She nods, her tears flowing freely down her face until I reach my thumb up to wipe them. “Okay. Then ask me again,” she says.

  It takes a second for my brain to catch up with her words, but when it does, a sense of elation washes over me. It’s the purest form of happiness I’ve experienced in over eight years. I reach over into the top drawer of my desk and pull out a box. The box that has been sitting in there since the day after I found out Charlie was pregnant.

  I open it and pull out the ring. It’s big. It’s over the top. It’s ostentatious. And it’s more money than I’ve ever spent on anything short of my cars and my penthouse. But I knew if I was lucky enough to have her wear it, I would want the world to know she was mine.

  Her eyes go wide when she sees the massive sparkling diamond on the platinum band.

  “I swear to you, you’re stuck with me, Charlie. For better or worse. Both of you. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you don’t regret it.” I hold the ring out to her. “Charlie Anthony Tate, marry me. Make me your husband and the father of our child. Say yes and make me happy beyond my wildest imagination.”

  She nods through her tears, licking them as they hit her lips. “Yes,” she says. Her forehead comes down to meet mine. “Yes,” she repeats, our lips so close they are almost touching.

  “Say it, Charlie. Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you,” she breathes into my mouth. “I love you so much, Ethan.”

  I close my eyes, savoring her words. The words I never thought I wanted to hear. The words I never thought I needed. I weave my hands into her hair, pulling her the last few millimeters until her lips meet mine.

  And I kiss her. I kiss her with everything that I have. We taste each other’s tears. We feel each other’s love. It’s a moment I know we’ll never forget. It’s a moment I hope to relive with her over and over again.

  I realize I haven’t put the ring on her finger yet. But before I do, I tell her, “This ring will protect you, just as I’ll always protect you. Look inside.”

  She takes it from me, squinting her eyes to see the tiny engraving on the inside of the band.

  Rule #14 – Forever

  Next to the words is a tiny engraving of a unicorn.

  “Oh, Ethan. It’s perfect,” she says. “So that’s what happened to rule number fourteen.”

  I smile, taking the ring from her and slipping it onto her long slender finger. I admire it on her. “It looks good on you, fiancée.”

  She looks at the computer screen, laughing. “Did we really just get engaged over porn?”

  I laugh along with her. “Yeah. I guess we’ll have to change the story when it comes to telling our kids.”

  “Kids?” Her eyes snap to mine. “As in more than one?”

  I nod. “I want as many as you’ll give me, Charlie.”

  “What about what I want,” she asks, looking down at me through lidded eyes, making my cock spring to life again.

  “Anything,” I say. “You can have anything you want. Name it.”

  “I want to watch the video again. And then I want you to take me to bed.”

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I angle the chair so we both have a good view of the computer monitor. I have a feeling this won’t be the last time we watch this. I have a feeling this is going to be the first of many memorable nights together. I have a feeling that despite the horrible things in our pasts, at this moment, we feel we’re the luckiest two people on earth.

  I smile and press play.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  I spent this morning making phone calls. Phone calls that had nothing to do with work and everything to do with telling my brothers and my parents about my upcoming nuptials. I’d been keeping the news of Charlie’s pregnancy pretty close to my chest. But now that we’re engaged and she’s showing more and more every day, it’s time to spread the word.

  As far as I’m concerned this baby is mine. And nobody else needs to know differently. I won’t have them thinking about Charlie in a negative way. And I certainly won’t have them looking at my kid as if it weren’t truly a part of the family. I’m pretty sure none of my immediate family would do that, but gossip has a way of spreading like wildfire, so Charlie and I decided enough people know the truth already and the fewer people we tell, the better.

  It’s her day off today and I’m meeting her for lunch so we can take a walk. Between swimming and walking, she’s determined not to gain too much weight. I could care less. She’d be beautiful if she put on fifty pounds as far as I’m concerned. But I’m being supportive. And I hate for her to walk through the park alone. So she agreed to use the gym when I’m not available to join her.

  I find myself getting restless as the lunch hour draws near. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk last night. We were . . . otherwise occupied. It had been so long since we had been together. Too long. I couldn’t stop touching her. I couldn’t stop staring at her burgeoning baby bump thinking of how it only makes her sexier. And then afterward, she fell asleep. Exhausted from our activities.

  I smile thinking of how this morning I grilled our steaks for breakfast because the only food we managed to eat last night was the strawberries and chocolate. I get hard just remembering it. She said she loved me again. I told her I’d grill her steaks for breakfast every damn day if she would tell me that every morning.

  I look at my watch to see it’s almost time to meet her. I grab my gym bag and head into the bathroom to change into workout clothes. Although we’re only walking, we do tend to work up a good sweat. And now that we’re well into June, the weather can get downright hot at times.

  I lock my office, slip my key and phone into my pocket and head for the door. When I near reception, I hear Gretchen talking to someone in the waiting area. She’s raising her voice in anger and I wonder if we have the disgruntled spouse of a client trying to gain access. It happens from time to time. It’s why we have bullet-proof glass and restricted access.

  I freeze when I hear Charlie’s voice. “Gretchen, this is getting a little old isn’t it? Do we have to do this dance every time I come here? No, I don’t have an appointment. Ethan was supposed to meet me downstairs, but I was early, and I really have to pee so I thought I’d come up.”

  I smile, ready to open the door and let her through when Gretchen speaks again. “You think you are so high and mighty, don’t you? You think Ethan will just drop everything when you come around. Well, let me tell you something—he’ll never change. He’s not cut out for relationships. He likes to fuck. He liked to fuck me, and I guess now he likes to fuck you. But he’ll tire of you and when he does, I’m the one who will be here. I’m the one he has leaned on all these years. I’ve put in my time and I’m the one who will eventually reap the benefits. So play your little game with him now. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I almost rip the door off the hinges trying to get out to the reception area. To Charlie. I quickly look around, relieved no clients are waiting because I’m about to tear into Gretchen like she’s never seen. But before I can open my mouth, Charlie shakes her head at me. I’m confused. She doesn’t want me to defend her?

  “Oh, hi, Ethan,” Charlie says with a huge smile. “I was just getting ready to ask Gretchen to calm down. All the anger coming off her is emanating so much heat in here, don’t you think?” She fans herself dramatically. Then she proceeds to remove the jack
et she’s wearing over her track suit. And when she does, there is no mistake about it, she’s either hiding a small cantaloupe under her tight tank top, or she’s pregnant. By this time, some of my employees are peeking around the corner, having no doubt heard some of Gretchen’s tirade.

  I look over at Gretchen, whose jaw is so far open it almost hits the countertop. “What the hell?” she spits at Charlie.

  Well, that’s one way to break the news to the office. I pull my office key out of my pocket. I offer it to Charlie. “This is a master key that opens all the doors in the office. It’s yours now.” Charlie smiles and holds out her left hand to accept the key, making sure my big fat diamond is apparent to anyone who might be paying attention.

  Gretchen’s eyes turn dark when she sees it. “You have to be fucking kidding me,” she pouts.

  “Charlie is going to be the mother of my child,” I tell her. “She’s also graciously agreed to be my wife. And as such, she’ll be entitled to half the stake in my company. That will make her your boss, Gretchen. So show some fucking respect or get the hell out.”

  “Ugh!” She looks around at the audience of employees. Then she straightens her pencil skirt and holds her chin high. She reaches down to grab her purse and a few things off her desk before she rounds the corner and comes out the reception door. “Good luck trying to replace me, Ethan. I’m the reason you get most of your clients you know.” She adjusts her cleavage to reveal even more.

  “If you really think that, Gretchen, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

  She parades through the room, not bothering to look at Charlie. I know it hurts her to see another woman pregnant when she can’t have kids of her own. But she truly brought this on herself by being such a selfish bitch.

  “Gretchen, wait,” I say before she reaches the outer door.

  She turns around, a glimmer of hope flashing across her face that maybe I’ve changed my mind. I hold my hand out to her. “I’m going to need your keys,” I say.

  She huffs through her nose as she reaches into her purse, retrieving her set. She throws them at my head, but Charlie reaches out and catches them just before they hit me.

  “It goes both ways,” Charlie says, smiling. “I’ll always be here to protect you, too.”

  I take her in my arms to the cheers of all my employees. I barely even notice the door closing behind Gretchen on her way out.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  “It’s about time you fired that bitch,” Melissa says.

  “I didn’t fire her. It was her choice to leave,” I say. “But I’ll tell you I’m not going to lose any sleep over it.”

  A look of guilt washes over Charlie’s face. “Oh, Ethan. I’m so sorry. I should have just stayed downstairs. What are you going to do?”

  “It’s fine, honey. Levi will call the temp agency and get a receptionist here within the hour.” I look at Levi. “You got this?”

  “I’m on it,” he says, walking over to shake my hand. “Congratulations, buddy.” He leans in to give Charlie a hug. “I’m so happy for you, Charlie.”

  The rest of my employees wish us well before I escort my fiancée to my private bathroom.

  “You look fantastic in that,” I say, eyeing every amazing curve of her body. She’s really carrying the pregnancy well. Some women tend to show all over. Not Charlie. She has this perfect little round belly. She’s not one of those women who make you wonder if they are pregnant or just putting on a little weight. It’s clear to anyone who sees her like this that she’s expecting. And I love it. Just like the ring, it makes me feel like it advertises she’s mine.

  “Really?” she asks, looking down on herself and running her hands along her baby bump. “I think I look like a freak of nature.”

  “Are you kidding? Do you know how sexy you look right now?” I say. “In fact, how about we nix the walk and go for a repeat on my couch?” I wink at her.

  She laughs, entering my bathroom. “I think you’re a little biased,” she says before closing the door. “You have love goggles on,” she shouts at me.

  I laugh, draping her jacket on the back of my chair. I kind of hope she will leave it here and her scent will permeate the leather so I can smell her for the rest of the day.

  “Ready?” she asks, coming back into my office. She sees me situating her jacket on my chair. “If you really think I don’t look hideous, would you mind if I leave my jacket here? It’s getting warm out there and I already have an oven attached to me.”

  “You can leave anything you want here.” I walk her back through the office and we make our way to the elevator. “And I’m serious about that key. Use it anytime you want.” All of a sudden I have an idea. We ride to the ground floor in silence while I think of how to ask her what I want to ask her.

  “Charlie, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. And this isn’t about money, because I know you don’t need mine, but do you plan to keep working through your pregnancy and after?”

  She looks up at me in wonder, like she’d never considered this question before. “Uh, yeah. Of course I’m going to work. I don’t know what I would do with myself if I didn’t.” She narrows her eyes at me and huffs, “If you think I’m going to stay home, barefoot and preg—”

  I grab her hand. “That’s not what I was saying at all. I would never ask that of you, although I would be okay with that if it’s what you wanted. But I worry about you being on your feet all day long. Maybe you need a less demanding job, but one that still challenges you.”

  “What are you saying, Ethan?”

  “I’m saying I know of a great job that just opened up. Good pay and great benefits—one of which is that you get to sleep with the boss.”

  “You want me to take Gretchen’s job?” she asks, like it’s the most unusual thing anyone’s ever asked her.

  “Well, sort of, yes.” We walk across the street and head into the park. “I’ve actually been thinking of hiring a receptionist and separating Gretchen’s duties. The job is getting too big for one person. She’s been receptionist, bookkeeper, and office manager for five years. But I’m not sure the job would require someone full-time yet, so it might only be twenty or thirty hours a week.”

  “You want me to be your receptionist?” she asks. “But I don’t have any experience.”

  “God no. I don’t want you sitting behind that glass. We get some lowlifes in there from time to time and I wouldn’t put you in that position. I want you to be my office manager.”

  “Your what?” She stops walking. “Ethan, come on. I have no management experience whatsoever. No bookkeeping skills. You are crazy. I’d run your business into the ground.”

  I laugh. “I was thinking just the manager part, not the bookkeeper part. I can find a receptionist with those skills. And you sell yourself short. I’ve been listening when you tell me about all the jobs you had overseas. You see yourself as a waitress, bartender, or shopkeeper’s assistant. I see you as a problem-solver, an organizer, a peace-keeper. I need that in a manager. And there are plenty of people around who would be more than happy to show you the ropes. You’ll need to learn the business anyway. You’re going to own half of it in . . . uh, when are you going to marry me?”

  She starts walking again. “One life-altering decision at a time, Ethan.”

  “Okay, honey, but I’m serious. Just think about it.”

  “I will,” she says. “It would be kind of nice not to be on my feet all day.”

  I smile. My plan is working. “So, what are you doing on your days off this week?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Did you have something in mind?”

  “Furniture shopping,” I say.

  “Furniture?”

  “Yeah. I’d really like it if you would pick out some things that will make the penthouse yours. Like you said yesterday, my place is too masculine. You need to put your touch on it.”

  “I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” she says. “It all seems so unreal. The baby, movin
g in with you” —she holds her ring out and stares at it— “this.”

  “Believe it, honey. It’s happening.”

  “That’s the third time you called me honey,” she says, with a disapproving wrinkle of her nose.

  “Don’t you like it?” I ask. “I could always use sweetheart. Or maybe babe. Or darling?”

  “Anything but honey, okay? It just reminds me of . . . stuff.”

  I cringe when I realize maybe some of the men who attacked her used that endearment. It makes my skin crawl thinking of the things that have been done to her. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I promise I’ll never use that word again.”

  She nods. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

  After a few steps of uncomfortable silence, she says, “So getting back to the furniture, what exactly are you thinking?”

  “Bedroom and living room. And guest room, if you want.”

  “Oh, no, the guest room is lovely. I wouldn’t want to touch it.”

  “My mom decorated it. She can’t wait to meet you, you know. But with their busy schedules, it may be easier for us to fly out to them.”

  “That might be fun,” she says. “I’d love a beach vacation. But we’d have to do it soon. I don’t want to fly in my third trimester.”

  “Right. That gives us about ten more weeks to get in the trip.”

  She looks over at me, seemingly impressed. “I can’t believe you know about trimesters and stuff.”

  “When something is important enough, darling, it’s worth knowing everything about.”

  She giggles. “You sound like a grandfather when you say that word.”

  I pantomime crossing something off a list. “No darling. Gotcha.”

  Halfway through our walk, we come across a group of guys playing football in the grass. “I can’t wait to watch a football game with you, Charlie. That’s okay, isn’t it, us watching football together?”

  “I’d like that a lot,” she says. “It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed it. Plus, football wasn’t the same overseas.”